Be as thou wast wont to be
by Emerald-Water
Summary: There's something lurking in the forest. As a couple of hikers turn up dead, one brother's decision could turn out to be fatal. hurt/comfort; Sam, Dean and the supernatural of course. Enjoy!
1. Intro

Hey folks,

long time, no see!! I want to introduce you to my new story... right now I'm pretty busy, so I'm not sure I'll be able to promise you one chapter a day... but I'll not let you hang there either.  
So, I hope you like this little intro... Oh, yeah... if you don't like... tell me, and I'll tell you who's fault it is ;);) and if you like it tell me too, and I'll tell her that as well!

Enjoy a little helpless Sam and an big brother for the aid... and of course, the supernatural. You all know by now, that I don't own them... only the idea... partially.

Lee

* * *

**Be as thou wast want to be**

It had been two wonderful, relaxing days. She'd enjoyed the nature and the fresh air, and being together with her husband, for once without family around. They'd checked themselves in, at the small towns only motel, and started their hiking-trips from there.

Now it had been three long days since her world had drifted off into one of horror and fear. She had never been religious, that there was something like god or devil, good and evil, but now, as she looked into the eyes of the man she loved, not seeing any recognition in the depths, she knew better. Evil existed. And it erased everything good around her, in her.

She retched as yet another foot connected with her, feeling her ribs moving… Eddie… she thought, watching in terror as his foot came down hard on her face, breaking skin and bone. Blood spluttered from her nose, down her throat, let her go blind as it ran into her eyes… and then, the hitting stopped and darkness consumed her…

… She woke up later to a world still dark. For a moment she asked herself what had roused her and then stared into glowing eyes. A hollow, threatening growl sounded near her face, letting her broken body try to scramble away on its own.

Something tore into her and she screamed, feeling being ripped apart and then…the world faded into nothingness.

_SPNSPN_

The two young men looked at the corpse; lips pressed together, their gaze following Doctor Sassy as he walked around the victim, explaining to them: "She's been dead for at least three days. I'm sorry I can't provide you with much more information right now. I'm only at the beginning of my examination. It'll take some time to find out what caused her death. I can see burns, and it's clear she's broken her wrist, a few ribs and three fingers on her right hand. Also you can assume that there will be breaks on her face, maybe the cheekbone… As soon I have a diagnosis, I'll call you, Detective… uhhh... Smith." He looked up to the young man, who in return smiled at him for a second. "That would be very… helpful." He then answered his face serious as his eyes seemed to be glued on the mauled young woman on the examination-table, forehead wrinkled in deep thought. Doctor Sassy watched as the taller one of the Detectives poked him slightly in the side, making a nodding movement with his head to the door. They both said their goodbyes and left. Odd couple, the Doctor mused, then he turned back to his gruesome work.

_TBC..._

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You want to see where this leads??


	2. Chapter 1

Hi again!

So, I'm sorry that I have to start with shorter chapters... but it's all for the greater good ;)  
Have fun... it's already pretty intense... but well... that's just my opinion here. ENJOY!!

Lee

* * *

He lay there, fighting to stay conscious. He had screwed up so bad tonight. Wincing with the movement he turned on his back, wishing nothing more than for his brother to find him, helping him, because right now he couldn't do anything. His hands shook, his vision was blurry and he knew he had at least one broken rib.

He also knew that he was starting to go into shock, because all he could think about at the moment, was that on top of it all he had lost his cellphone in his flight. As he started to giggle hysterically about this, his breath caught in his throat as something within him shifted… his eyes rolled up in his head as he cried out in agony and his consciousness took the pain with it into the dark haze…

_SPNSPN_

He had had a hell of a time tonight, Dean contemplated, his hands going over the roll of dollar-bills in his pocket. _Ohhh, yeahh! Ol' Greasy's look… it had been hilarious as he lost the game of pool, and the three-hundred dollars along! Then again… Ol' Greasy trying to beat the shit out of him hadn't been so much fun… on a second thought… Yeah, it had been fun!!_

Giggling and swaying slightly he stopped in front of their current motel-room, sighing deeply. Well, fun-time's over now, he thought to himself, unlocking the door he let himself in, deciding to find his bed in the darkness. Sam already seemed asleep and he didn't want his brother bitching around right now. Stumbling over something in the darkness he almost cursed. Why did Sam leave the stupid weapon-duffel in the middle of the way… and then he had reached his bed, not caring to undress, just slumped down and fell asleep immediately.

_SPNSPN_

_B e f o r e…_

"We should go for it tonight…" Sam said face set. He had stopped the research he had started immediately after they had returned to their room after the short conversation with the pathologist. Dean rolled his eyes, his brother was really starting to get obsessed. "Sam! I told you it's too soon… we should…" Sam spread his arms wide, nostrils flaring in anger. "What do you want to wait for! Did you see the girl on the table? She was literally shredded! This mutilation…They…" he started.

"Damn! Would you just listen to me? Do you think there's only one supernatural power out there, mauling on flesh?! The victim was gone how long? She's been missing almost a week! God knows what had it's share… if we go there unpre…"

"Since when are you the one preparing for a hunt?!" Sam stopped him before he could complete the sentence. "Since when are you the one jumping to conclusions so easily!" Dean countered.

"What! Wanna wait till the next one's killed? Wasn't it you who said it's the family-business to safe people? I'm sure it's a black-dog! And you know as well as I do, that it'll go for another victim soon. It's been almost three days since the last kill!" Sam reasoned. "So, then tell me what's about the burned flesh! The broken bones! You have any idea how this fits?" Dean challenged. As Sam didn't say anything he nodded. "Yeah… I thought so…"

Sam stood there. "Listen, we're staying put. Got that? We're not going there unprepared. Period."

"Well, if you do nothing… I'll go on my own…" Sam muttered and before he knew it, his brother was in his face, pushing him into the wall, pinning him there. "What is up with you! Do you have a death-wish? You listen, Sam and you listen good." He hissed, his voice angry, his eyes blazing.

"We'll get that son of a bitch. But we're not going tonight." He pushed him harder. "Whatever it is… and we're NOT sure it's a black dog… is killing and I'm pretty sure it enjoys the kills. Did I make myself clear? We-are-not-going!" He accentuated every word of the last sentence, and after he had shoved Sam one last time he released him.

"What are you? My mother? I'm…" he stopped as he saw Dean's shoulder tense. Without another word he grabbed for his keys and turned, leaving the room without looking back.

Sam heard the Impalas engine roar into life as Dean drove off. "**Screw you!**" he muttered, getting on his knees to drag out the weapons-duffel under Dean's bed.

_TBC..._

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Hope the three parts told you where this is heading and that what you read helps you to overlook the shortness ;)


	3. Chapter 2

Hey guys!

Thanks for the reviews. Okay. I just wanted to dedicate this chapter of torture and pain to a special person, who likes to torture me with stopping at the WORST parts of stories. Thanks for this, Soncnica! You rock girl!!

And on we go ;)

Lee

* * *

_Present…._

His cellphone blaring at him woke him up. He squinted against the harsh sun-light that flooded the room, groping for the offending object. He flicked it open and answered, his voice laced with sleep.

"Detective Smith?" the person calling him asked. "Yeah." He yawned into the receiver. "I'm Dr. Sassy, you left your phone-number in case there're any news concerning the dead woman. Well, frankly there is. She died on exhaustion in combination with shock and the attack of an animal. She as well was assaulted before. She must have been at least two days without food. The injury on her face is in shape of a foot. So, someone kicked her in the face. But I can't explain the burns on her skin. What killed her in the end was exhaustion and shock, though. Also, I'm pretty sure that she'd have died because of the extend of her injuries. I don't like to say this, but I'm pretty sure there's a killer out there. The bite-marks I mentioned before, suggest a bigger animal. Maybe a wolf or a sheppard… I'm not sure, and… I'm almost petrified to acknowledge this, but she's been alive as the animal attacked her the first time."

Dean sat up while listening to the Doctors explanation. "Doctor Sassy, you're sure about that? Exhaustion and shock? Well… that's a…" he stopped, a wave of dread washing over him.

"I'm as sure as I can be, Detective Smith. It's never one hundred percent though." Dr. Sassy replied. "Okay, here's what we do. I think my partner and I are on a lead here, we stumbled over several cases in this area over the last twenty years, but we first have to check out something, before we come to false conclusions. We need this to be a secrete as long as possible. I'll call back later." He said. "Oh, and Doctor? You really have to keep this to yourself. We don't want to warn the…" he stopped mid-sentence as his gaze fell onto the untouched bed of his brother and then the black duffel that held their weapons.

Without another word he snapped his cellphone shut, not caring about the Doctor who was asking if everything was alright.

_He had forbidden him to go. He… he…_ "Sam!" he asked into the room, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer. Sam was gone. He had gone on a hunt alone. Unprepared. Hotheaded.

He was up and in his boots only seconds later, while he listened to the dialing-tone of his cellphone as he called Sam.

Panic swept over him as he was redirected to the mail-box. Snapping the cellphone shut again, he bent down, looking at the items missing.

"I'm so gonna kill you Sam…" he muttered trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

…

_He cried out in pain, as the spirit touched him, burning his flesh. Feeling the sizzling hot? cold? fingers caress his face… encircling him. He almost choked as he felt it's fingers going through his flesh, inside his chest, searching and as he thought he couldn't bear it anymore he started to scream as his ribs snapped… Pain was everywhere… and then… it dissipated, leaving him breathless, tears running down his face, mixing with his blood. He couldn't think clear, just knowing one thing. He had to get out of here. With effort he dragged himself upwards, staggering as his vision darkened around the edges and his legs almost buckled. Nausea and dizziness swept over him, letting him forget how to breathe. He coughed harshly, his ribs shifting at the movement and he felt going down again, as suddenly all energy had left him. _

Out! Out! Out!_ His brain screamed at him. On hands and knees he crawled, trying to get away of the spirit. The wind freshened up again and with the wind he could hear the whisper. _

"Hunting! Hunting and you are the prey! Hurry! Hurry! Or you'll not get far away…" _the taunting boosted him with energy. _

_He needed to get out of here! Stumbling forward he managed a few steps, reaching inside his coat to retrieve his cellphone. Before he could touch it, he felt suddenly airborne, a hard shove let him tumble. He felt his cellphone being ripped from his gasp and all air left him as he hit the tree hard… "You're playing with the rules, or…" the spirit appeared in front of him. "I'll give you a head-start. Use your time well…" with that it disappeared, leaving Sam sitting at the trunk of the tree… _

With a gasp Sam woke up to bright sunshine. He felt lightheaded and his heart beating hard against his ribcage. Slowly he raised his head almost crying out as he felt the movement jostled his injured neck. Letting his head fall down again, he took in deep calming breaths, feeling his body shuddering, despite the sun that warmed up the small clearing he lay in. He remembered the spirit, throwing him at the tree, but he had no recollection of where he was, nor how he had gotten there. Sam rolled onto his side, fighting against the excruciating pain that burned inside his chest and neck, a lump of bile rising in his throat. With a silent sob he gave into the hurt and nausea and retched. _Dean… please…_ he sank down again, not caring that his clothes were strained now with his vomit.

The sun above him wandered on with each time he opened his eyes. He knew hours had passed and still he hadn't moved an inch… and his brother wasn't there… and he had lost his phone. He felt his shiver turn into constant trembles as the sweat on his body was now cooled by a slight breeze and the sun lost its power as it turned into a red-golden glow.

Evening was there and with evening came the night… so now he knew what the other victims had gone through. Their torture had gone on for at least two days. Again a small sob escaped his throat. He didn't want to die… and then the breeze turned into wind and with the wind came the taunting voice of the spirit again…

"Hunting! Hunting and you are the prey! Hurry! Hurry! Or you'll not get far away…"

He felt that energy again, alien and wrong and at that moment he understood it wasn't his energy he felt. It was the spirits. He stumbled to his feet again, feeling the taste of blood in his mouth, not knowing where it came from and almost gagging on it. His vision grew dark for a moment as all his remaining blood seemed to rush down to his legs… and he started to stumble forward, every limb shaking with the effort the simple task took out of him.

The horror of the situation almost let him pass out again. _No! Not walking! It hurt to walk! It hurt! Stop! _

But his body moved on… not caring at what his mind screamed at him…

_TBC..._

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_Comments? Suggestions? Criticism?_


	4. Chapter 3

Hey again!

So... guess what. Here's the update. Thanks for all the reviews. I hope you enjoy the next part...  
I've been told that it would be easier to read if I would make more paragraphs... so... I tried in this chapter. I'm not sure if this make things better.

So, you are the audience... could you just give me a hint? Is this better then the chapter before? - THANKS!

Lee

* * *

It hadn't taken Dean more than a couple of minutes before he left the motel-room, the duffel in the Impalas trunk. He didn't know if he was more angry than worried or the other way around.

Fact was, Sam hadn't followed his orders and Sam wasn't back, which left not a lot of options.

The information of Dr. Sassy had been what he had waited for, the one hint that made him sure they didn't deal with a black dog. He had heard about Leroy Evans, the guy that lived here about forty years ago. Every hunter knew Leroy Evans. He was a hunter who'd made himself the star of America's most wanted.

The sick bastard had abducted and tortured several hikers to death. He never had been brought to trial, as a husband of one of the victims took justice into his own hands and killed him. Dean had remembered the story last night, as he had been at the bar, talking to the locals. And he knew now, it had been the thing that had nagged on his mind, never left, only the mauling didn't fit. He beat down on the steering-wheel.

"Damn!" He knew Sam was out there, in the woods. Alone! Only because he was pigheaded like a spoiled brat! Only because… He shouldn't have left him alone. He braked as he reached the parking-lot leading into the forest they had been two days ago. The latest victim had been found in this area. All the other hikers, that had vanished over the years had started their trips from here.

There was an old abandoned shed about two miles along the trail. Opening the trunk Dean prepared for the hunt.

He had finished with loading the gun, putting several spare cartridges into his coat and put several bags of salt into the back-pack, as something caught his eye… breathing suddenly deep, to stay calm Dean left the trunk open, slowly walking up to the thing that lay at the leafy ground. He bent down, grabbing at the cool metal, touching it gently. Then he pushed up again, forgetting about the trunk of the car… about everything. The gun still in his hand he broke through the bushes, not feeling the thorns cutting his skin but yelling at the top of his lung for his brother.

**"SAAAAAMMMMMM!"**

_..._

_He could feel the presence of another individual. He loved this game. He had played it so often. And he was good at it. He watched as the young man stumbled on, hurt and exhausted. And now the hunter was here. He would participate with his part in the play. "Hunting! Hunting and you are the prey! Hurry! Hurry! Or you'll not get far away!" with his whispered words he took the spell from the kid, watching as he fell, leaving him with an amused laugh… time to meet the hunter!_

...

Sam hit the ground and felt his broken rib shift painfully again, his neck being aggravated but even the strength to cry out wasn't left in him. After a while he felt his body going numb, like he was floating. Nothing hurt anymore. He lay there, not able to move, while his mind was screaming at him to do something, working overtime. He heard a slight rustle nearby and a twig broke and briefly he wondered if the victims had been even dead by the time animals started to mutilate them or if they had just lay there, consumed by terror as they had been fed from. Oh gosh… he flinched as not far away a gun went off…

...

Dean had felt the presence of the ghost before it had appeared right in front of him. He didn't allow the ugly bastard to advance on him, levered his gun and shot. He let the gun drop to protect his ears, as the apparition vanished with a furious screech. Withdrawing his hands slowly he only listened to the quietness of the forest… and…

_"Dean!"_

Holding his breath he waited again for the call.

_"Dean!"_

Without a sound he bent over, grabbing at his gun again, and then turned in a circle listening for the voice again. As the call wasn't repeated, he inhaled deeply and screamed as loud as he could muster: "Sammy! Where are you! Keep calling!"

_"Dean!"_

The weak call was repeated and finally Dean had a direction. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" he answered, starting to run again…

...

Sam stared at the bushes a few feet away from him, looking at the yellow glowing eyes that seemed to watch him curiously. He brought up all the strength he had left and scrambled away, his breath coming in sharp, little puffs.

The leaf rustled again, and the shaggy, rugged dog growled. Its chaps drawn up, revealing its teeth. Sam's arms suddenly couldn't hold him upright anymore and he fell backwards.

"Dean!" he weakly called out hoping against hope, that his brother would come for his aid…

_"Hunting! Hunting, and you're the prey… "_ the whispered taunts sounded behind him.

He stopped breathing, as the bushes parted and another rugged and tattered figure emerged the shadows.

"Dean!" Sam called again, watching helpless as the dog from the one side and the man from the other side started to advance on him.

_"Sammy! Where are you! Keep calling!"_ he could hear Dean's voice sounding through the semi-dark forest.

Sam drew in another deep breath, and shouted out, the same second the two figures leaped at him: **"Dean!"**

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TBC...

Tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 4

Okay guys, I know I left you hanging - but just a little ;).

Hope you're up for some... uhm... no, I'm NOT telling ya. Just go ahead and read already ;);)

* * *

A howl let Dean's blood freeze, his heart pounding against his ribcage as he pushed himself to run faster. Bursting through the bushes in front of him he again didn't care as the thorns cut him and ripped at his clothes. Skidding to a halt he squinted to see properly his heart dropping and his mind suddenly racing as he saw two figures hunched over something on the ground.

The big, ruddy hound suddenly jerked. Its head snapping up and around, blood dripping from it's chaps. With a growl the shaggy dog turned completely, looking at him with yellow glowing eyes. Then it disappeared, only to reappear in front of Dean, leaving him no time to prepare. He just levered his gun and pushed the trigger. With a pain filled howl the animal disappeared. Dean recoiled. _A Ghost-hound?! _Without hesitation he turned to the hunched figure, aiming at it and shot again.

The rock-salt hit the man in the back, letting him topple over. But he didn't dissipated. The figure just straightened again, as if nothing happened and turned to face Dean.

"You're not supposed to interfere." The voice of the man was rough and scratchy. His hair was wild and dirty, as well as his face. And his eyes were ablaze.

Dean knew him from the missing-person reports. It was Eddie Sullivan, the husband to the woman found dead.  
His face went ashen as he recognized the crumbled heap on the ground.

"What did you do!" he hissed, slowly advancing on the man.

The man cackled: "Hunting! Hunting and you're the prey…" the man stopped and looked at him, measuring him.  
"He was pathetic." He said.

"What-did-you-do!" Dean repeated, his voice threateningly.

"I'll leave you one hour head-start." The man continued, as if he said nothing. "Then, one of you will turn into me, and continues what I started… one's always the hunter, one's always the prey." With that, the fire in the man's eyes died down and he fell with a gurgled cry.

Dean stood there, trying to comprehend what had happened. But then everything hit home and with two large steps, he was on his knees, hands hovering over the bundle on the ground, not sure if he wanted to touch, wanted to know…

...

His first touch had already elicited a moan of pain and a harsh flinch.

Dean's feelings were in turmoil. There was too much going through his head. Relieve, anger, fright, care, love, hate. He needed to sort through, deciding what to do first.

Taking in a calming breath, he slowly zipped down Sam's coat, trying to be as gentle as possible. First he had to take a look. As he opened the jacket, he could feel the shiver in Sam starting to double.

"Shhh… it's me, Sam. I'm here. Nothing's going to happen…" he slowly lifted his brother's thin shirt, inhaling sharply as he saw the dark and vivid bruises on Sam's torso. He just knew, that something inside must be damaged.

His fingers connected with Sam's cold and clammy skin, touching and prodding as gentle as possible. As he connected with one of the darker spots, on Sam's left side, Sam gasped, trying to move away from his hands.

"No… not… please…" Sam's words were barley audible.

Dean's fingers withdrew. "Sammy… what have you gotten yourself into…" he stammered, his hand combing through his short hair. His eyes fell on the dark strain, that had started to blossom on Sam's left hip, drenching the waistband of his jeans. Dean sighed, his hands shaking, as he put off his own coat, buttoning down his shirt, shuddering slightly at the cold night-air. He had to stop the bleeding. Ripping his shirt in stripes, he put one bigger part on the jeans covered claw-mark, putting pressure on the wound.

Sam's eyes snapped open, a strangled cry coming from his lips.

Dean moved his free hand to his brother's forehead, putting it there, stroking with this thumb soothingly over Sam's temple, watching as Sam blinked hard to focus again on his surroundings.

"Dean…" he breathed, as his eyes rested on him.

Dean smiled for a moment. He could still feel the harsh trembles going through his brother and was petrified at the weakness in Sam's voice. But Sam was alive. And he'd keep him that way.

"I gotta stop the bleeding, Sammy." He said, his voice gentle and hoarse.

Sam tried to nod, but bit his lip, tears starting to run down his face.

"Sammy?" he asked, hearing his brother panting through the pain.

"Neck…" Sam whispered, swallowing hard.

Dean retrieved the now bloody piece of his former shirt, looking at the wound, satisfied, that it didn't seem to be too bad.

He put the cloth back to cover the wound, and then moved with his hands to Sam's neck, already seeing what hurt his little brother. Prodding carefully he checked the swollen and bruised tissue right at Sam's neck. Whatever he had hit, he must have hit it hard. Feeling slowly upwards, moving through his brothers hair, he felt the lump and crusted blood just above, wincing as he heard Sam hiss in pain.

"Sorry Dude…" he apologized, holding up three fingers in front of Sam's eyes. "How many?" he asked, waiting for Sam's response.

Instead an answer Sam's eyes drifted shut. Not so gently anymore Dean rubbed the flesh on Sam's collar-bone, seeing Sam's eyes snap open.

"Sammy… no nap. How many fingers?" he asked, waiting for an answer.

"Tired…" Sam told him instead, eyes only half-mast.

"Sam… nononono…" he grabbed his brother's face between his hands trying to talk him back.

"Please Sam…" he tried from a different angle. It seemed almost as if Sam just had drifted off, as he suddenly struggled his eyes open again.

"Deeeeeee…" he slurred, " 'm sorry…" he continued, a goofy grin on his face. "World's spinning…" Sam added, a little clearer now.

Dean shook his head and gave up on asking how many fingers he held up, instead, as gentle as possible again, he put his arms around Sam, supporting his head, as not to jostle his neck anymore and slowly hoisted him up.

Sam didn't seem to help in any way.

As Sam sat, he could feel the trembles in his brother even grow more heavy, cursing silently at this bastard of ghost who'd done this to him. Sam mumbled something incoherently, as he gently led Sam's head to his shoulder, so he had both hands free for wrapping his ripped shirt around Sam's middle, to stop the seeping of the claw-mark and to keep dirt from the wound.

He could feel Sam trying to move closer, feeling the warmth of his body and hugged him to him, not able to deny the little comfort.

As he had finished his first aid, he zipped up Sam's coat, feeling him stiffen at the movement and groaning out in pain.

"Sorry…" Dean whispered, moving his hand up and down Sam's back for reassurance.

He felt Sam relax into his loose embrace, his chin lying on top of Sam's head, as he decided to just let some minutes pass, leaving his brother some time to recoup.

He looked up sharp, as a wail echoed through the woods, followed soon by the bark of a dog...

* * *

_TBC..._

_Well? Was that okay? ;)_


	6. Chapter 5

Hi guys!

Thanks for the nice words in your feedback. Hope you'll be happy with the next chapter. I'm a little busy working overtime and uncool things like that. But do not fret. The story is here, and I'll keep up the fast updates.  
As the idea of this story was one of my friends here I should also give her some credit and a shout and as I know how she loves Sam hurt, this one's specially for you Romi! Enjoy!

* * *

_Before:_

_... He looked up sharp, as a wail echoed through the woods, followed soon by the bark of a dog. _

_

* * *

__Now:_

Without loosing time, he took his coat, wrapping it around Sam's shoulder, knotting the arms of the jacket to keep it in place. It should help to keep Sam warm and a little more protected, because the next few minutes would be hard on him again.

Pulling Sam to his feet, he heard his shout of pain, but there was no time to be gentle now. He put Sam's arm around his shoulder, holding it in place by grabbing Sam's wrist, looping his other arm around his brother's waist. Together they started to stumble forward. He knew where they could find shelter. He felt Sam's legs dragging along the path, not able to keep up with his fast stance, knowing his brother was out of his mind right now, because of the pain he caused. But he couldn't stop.

After a while he felt the strenuous exertion, his arms and muscles cramped, his legs started to shake, but knew he had to push them both if they wanted to survive that night. Then he saw the darker shadow of the shed silhouetted against the trees. It was a short-lived relieve, as something behind them crashed through the undergrowth with unbelievable speed and Dean knew that they wouldn't make it in time to safety.

He let Sam's arm slide from his shoulders, trying to lead him down as gentle as possible. Grabbing his gun, he stood over his brother, legs spread wide to have enough balance. Then the bushes in front of him were ripped apart and the hound lunched.

Dean stood there, aiming calmly. He took another deep breath and pulled the trigger… the dog dissipated with a pain filled roar, its paw had been only inches from his face. Letting his gun-arm fall to his side he stood there trying to calm his racing heart, recouping for a second.

The wind around them freshened up, letting the leaf in the trees start to whisper. Dean raised his head, looking upwards not knowing what was happening, but felt the fine hair on his neck starting to rise in anticipation.

Again, he bent and dragged his brother to his feet, tugging his coat back in place and tried to ignore Sam's sob.

As they started to move for the shed, the whispers grew louder and the bodiless voice of Leroy Evans screamed in rage at him:

_"No! No! My game! You play by the rules! My game! No! No!"_

His breath came in hard gasps, as he again pushed forward, the words spoken by the spirit of the hunter giving him another rush of adrenaline. They would be safe in this shed. He somehow knew. It must be a safe place…

He kicked the door open, pushing Sam forward, as the wind suddenly grew into a storm, and he felt something hitting him between the shoulder-blades knocking him off his feet and into the shed. He cried out, more of surprise then of pain, as he flew through the door, and then it shut with a deafening bang, leaving the wind and the screeching spirit outside.

Dean lay there gasping for breath, trying to calm down. The shed was deadly quiet. There was no sound to be heard from outside, and just as he was sure he had went deaf, the pitiful moan of his little brother taught him otherwise.

With fast movements he was crouched at Sam's side, turning him slowly over, wincing as another moan escaped Sam's throat.

"Sorry, Dude! There was no other way to drag you heavy ass out of the war-zone." He apologized, smiling as Sam's eyelids fluttered and his brother looked at him, eyes open only half-mast.

Dean looked around the sparely furnished shed, seeing something comparable to a mattress, he tugged at Sam's sleeve talking lightly to him: "Hey, I found ya a nice accommodation for tonight. Well, you probably have to share your bed with like millions of moths. Let's get you over there and say hi, huh Sammy-boy?"

Sam stared at him, blinking owlishly, doing nothing to quench some of Dean's concern.

He snapped his fingers in front of Sam's face. "Sammy? You still in there?" he asked, the smile gone from his face.

It took a while before Sam had followed the sound and movement, looking at the fingers in front of his face then moving upward to meet Dean's eyes.

"T's not save here…" Sam mumbled. "You gotta… watch out…"

Dean froze at Sam's comment.

Cupping Sam's face he tried to keep his brother's attention. "Sammy? What do you talk about?" Dean noticed how much effort it cost Sam to stay focused, his worry about the injury on Sam's head and neck grew. Pushing the thought aside, he bent over Sam.

"Common little brother, lets get you cozy over there.

Sam stiffened and panted as he helped him sit. He saw Sam's eyes close as he pulled him up to his feet.

"Dizzy!" Sam grunted, swaying and putting all his weight on Dean, leaving it up to his brother to move him over to the old filthy mattress.

Dean put him down gently, his own legs shaking again with the effort.

Tugging his own coat tightly around Sam again, he saw his little brother shifting, Sam's eyes opening again to look at him, really focused for the first time since he found him.

"I dreamt about it…" he said, his eyes starting to droop already and with a whispered "Sorry!" Sam succumbed to unconsciousness again.

Dean stared at his sleeping brother… _What had this been about?_

* * *

_TBC..._

Hope I didn't disappoint with the new chapter!


	7. Chapter 6

Hi folks!

Sorry I had this chapter on my PC like two days, ready for posting... but work didn't allow to do it sooner.  
So, here's the next bit of the story... and I'm not going to babble to long, just ENJOY!

Lee

* * *

_Whispers, gentle and soothing. He felt reassured and safe. He listened as the voices told him their story. Each one was unique and at the same time alike. They were ghosts. Imprisoned spirits by the one who was hunting him. _

_They had told him about "The Hunter". How he had played his game. How he had enjoyed their torture, and how their spirits had been drawn to this house._

_It was a house with a dark history. It was a house where torture had taken place as "The Hunter" had been alive. It was marked, with pain and hate and screams. The energy of death so strong that even Hunter didn't dare to come in._

_It had been the house were Hunter had killed for the first time. _

_It was both prison and sanctuary for the preys. Safe and secure, but only for the hunted, not for hunters… _

_We hate him! We'll stop him! We'll kill him!… _with a hoarse **"Stop!"** Sam's eyes snapped open.

...

Dean had kept vigil over his sleeping brother, somehow perturbed by Sam's words. He wasn't sure it was only delusion what Sam had talked about.

He couldn't pinpoint it, but the longer he was here, the more it seemed that the atmosphere in the shed changed, also there was no sign of something in here. It was as if the shed turned more alien and hostile with each passing minute, giving Dean the creeps and let his tension grow. He involuntarily shivered, running his hands up and down his naked forearms. Did he imagine this, or was the air getting… before he could finish that thought he felt airborne and hit the opposite wall hard. The hit knocked the wind out of him, left him gasping for breath, he felt the temperature around him drop. His skin prickled as the cold encircled him, leaving him unable to breathe, as icy fingers seemed to wrap around his throat. He tried to move his head, his arms, his legs, but all was immobilized, hold in bruising grasps by unseen foes.

His vision grew blurry as more and more oxygen was pressed from him, without being replaced. Every fiber of his body growing over-sensitive, if he would have had enough breath left at the moment he sure would have screamed. And then, through all this chaos and agony he saw movement and tried to focus on it, because deep down in his meddled mind he knew it meant safety.

And with Sam's yell to stop, everything ended and he fell boneless to the ground, heaving in breath after breath, fighting to stay conscious.

...

"_He's the hunter!"_ the voices told him. _"He means harm. No hunter will come in and will live."_

"He's no hunter! He's my brother. He means no harm. He…"

"_He must die!"_ they continued.

"No! You'll leave him alone." Sam shouted, while struggling to sit up.

"_You don't know what he'll become. He'll hunt you! He'll torture you! He'll kill you!"_

A strange pressure started to build up behind his eyes. Sam grabbed for his head, holding it and shaking it no.

"He's my brother! He's here to help!" he whispered helpless.

"_We can stop him! We can stop him! Let us in! Let us in! Let the hunter be the hunted! Let us in!"_ the voices seduced.

The pressure behind his eyes still increased, as he watched the spirits dance.

They were many, so many! He still felt dizzy and every part of his body hurt. His eyes fell on his brother on the ground, the spirits still around him, not holding him anymore, but ready to lunge again.

Looking down at himself he saw Dean's coat around him, letting him almost smile. His eyes wandered back to where Dean lay, his eyes closed now, heaving in breath after breath, that came out in white, misty puffs, seeing the tremors that ran through him.

Suddenly he knew what had to be done. With determination on his face, he pulled the coat from his shoulders, wincing as he stood, limping over to his brother on the floor.

Dean opened his eyes as he heard movement, looking at him, his gaze clouded and slightly unfocused.

Slowly Sam bent, ignoring the sting of his hip and his ribs, as he gently draped the jacket over Dean, his hands lingering for a second on his brother's chest, feeling comforted at the gentle but fast rise and fall.

Dean's eyes went wide as he could read the plan that had formed in Sam's mind. Ever so slowly he shook his head, his mouth moving to form the word _"no"_ over and over again…

"I'm sorry…" Sam whispered again.

He knew this was dangerous, still it maybe was their only chance… he stood, turning his back to Dean, and then straightened, closing his eyes, telling the spirits around them:

"I'm inviting you. I'll let you in. We'll be able to leave your prison, and we'll find the real hunter and stop him. It's the only way for you to escape and find peace…"

As soon as he had finished he felt the cold within him grow, feeling the thought of others as they invaded him, felt their fear and hate and pain, almost doubling.

From far away he could hear Dean cry out for him to stop, but blue, blinding light filled every part of the shed suddenly and the last he could memorize of his brother was a thump and a strangled scream…

_TBC..._

* * *

_So? Any comments? Criticism? Ideas? Wanna have more? ;)_


	8. Chapter 7

Hi guys!

Have fun with the next part of my story. Hope you enjoy! Let me know how you liked it... you wanna know what happened to Dean? Here ya go! ;)

Lee

* * *

Dean smashed into the wall face first. A strangled cry escaped him before his mouth and nose filled with blood choking his scream. He coughed and had to close his eyes at the blinding blue light that filled the shed, leaving him in complete darkness only a few seconds later.

Blinking and coughing again he tried to breathe and turned around, only to watch Sam leave the shed.

_Nonononono! Sam! _With a pant he stood, swallowing down a mouthful blood, his hand grabbing the wall for support, to not land face down on the floor again. He bowed forward, opening his mouth and let the blood ran freely for a moment. Swallowing again, he straightened. He had to get to Sam! With that he started to stumble forward…

…

They stepped over the threshold into the cool night-air, their senses sharpening and their turmoil calming as they felt the first wisp of freedom since years.

After a few more steps they could hear cruel laughter echoing through the trees around them and felt the presence of the hunter.

He had waited for them!

Panic filled them and they shuddered at his voice: _"Hunting, Hunting and you are the prey! Kill you, kill you, you will not get far away…"_ the bushes on the other side of the clearing rustled and parted, as a dark shadow emerged, staying there, waiting.

They all were petrified, but one. This spirit, was the one belonging to this body, and it explained in calmness what they were about to do; How they would stop this madness now and forever…

And then the creature in front of them lunged, accompanied by an feral howl as a dark hound with yellow glowing eyes smashed the bushes behind the dark figure joining him in his attack.

A shout from behind them echoed over their heads, followed by a loud blast and they watched the monstrous dog disappear, both opponents stopping frozen.

Leroy Evans ghost distorted Eddie Sullivans features into a sneer showing his yellow teeth, smacking his lips he whispered: "And there comes the Hunter!" Dark ooze rushing from Eddie's body, letting him scream one last scream as he fell to the ground with eyes unseeing.

...

They watched in utter terror as the darkness escaped from the human body, rising into the air and rushing forward, away from them, back to the shed, where they could hear the yell again: "SAM!"

...

Suddenly all the calmness was gone. He needed to get them out! He needed them out NOW! He fought against the spirits within him, pushed at them mentally, feeling his nose starting to bleed at the strain, as his consciousness partly returned. His limbs were numb as he forced himself around, while opening his mouth and pushed again, feeling them leave… seeing them rushing after the dark cloud that headed for his brother. Dean… he felt his vocal-chords tearing as he screamed out "NOOOO!" seeing the dark cloud reaching his brother… but then… the spirits, the preys had reached Leroy Evans, the hunter… and the world turned into bright white light, the sound of an explosion rocked the clearing, followed by an all destroying shock-wave, as the spirits of the preys and the hunter annihilated, their energy discharged by a mere touch.

...

Dean only had time to raise his arms protecting his eyes and head as he the shock-wave ripped him off his feet. He crashed into the nearby wall. Slumping to the ground unconscious, he never felt the heat that rushed over him, turning the wooden shed black, as it's walls smoldered.

...

The citizens of Petersburg were woken by the sound of a huge explosion taken place at the National Recreation Park.  
The whole city was on its feet, as the Firefighters, Police and Paramedics tried to make out the origins of the detonation.

Frank Walden, Commander of Petersburg's Fire Department was scratching his head under his helmet, trying to coordinate the search.

It was odd, he thought. An explosion that big, that the shock-wave even reached Petersburg should be able to located. This explosion, however was invisible, as if imagined. There was no fire, smoke and all they could smell was the wet musty duff.

He listened to another call-in of one of his men, telling him there was nothing that looked like an explosion-site at his check-point, giving him the coordinates.

It looked like it would be a long night, Frank contemplated, sighing as his walkie-talkie yet crackled again, another one of his men telling him: "No sight, Sir."

_SPNSPN_

It was almost midday as Frank Walden quit the search, telling his man to come back to the meeting-point, as once again one of his men reported back to him.

"Commander, you really should see this. We are at the Evans-Shed, the old shed three miles east. We're pretty sure we found the origins of the explosion. Although there was no fire, it's definitely the explosion-site. The trees around the shed are cracked like they were toothpicks and blackened, as if something hot burned the surface. Same happened to the shed Sir…. Sir? Commander Walden?"

But no one listened to the firefighter as all attention of the men around Frank Walden were on the two figures that had emerged from the forest, stumbling towards them. As the one of them, who carried the second looked up, he stopped frozen, swaying. His gaze wandered around meeting everyone's of Frank Walden's team, and then he whispered with a hoarse voice: "Help… Please…" the man's legs buckled as he couldn't keep himself and the other one upright anymore, both tumbling to the ground, not moving anymore. For a second all stared at the fallen couple, then all hell broke loose…

_

* * *

__TBC..._


	9. Chapter 8

Hey folks!

Thanks for the reviews. Well, I think you'll like to know how they managed to get out ot the forest and who's dragging whom, right?

We gonna get to the part... at least almost ;) - ENJOY!

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was that it hurt. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it even hurt to force his eyes open. Blinking to clear his vision he saw the damage done to the clearing, his neck and head burning in a fierce fire at every movement.

Panting he turned on his stomach. _Dean…_he had been right in the middle of the energy-blast. He needed to find him! Bracing himself, he started to get on his hands and knees, tears streaking his smut-covered face, turning black as they ran down his cheek drawing lines through the grime. He started to crawl toward the shed, hoping that Dean would be okay.

He hadn't covered half the way, as his strength was spent and Sam fell boneless to the ground, the pain almost robbing him his breath and consciousness. He tried to croak out his brother's name, no sound escaping his broken throat, only the coppery taste of blood acompanied his attempt to speak.

Finally, after an eternity he reached the shed, dragging himself up the three steps of stairs, looking around, not able to suppress a groan. Sam shook because of exhaustion. He blinked hard against the onslaught of darkness that assaulted his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision and to find Dean lying in a crumbled heap on the porch-floor. With his last stock of energy Sam managed to crawl over to him, not able to do more, he just laid his arm protectively around his brothers midsection and gave into the pull of unconsciousness.

…

He squinted and scrunched his nose as the first sun-rays hit him. He felt odd, lightheaded and numb. Working hard he finally managed to open his eyes, closing them almost immediately at the harsh light.

Minutes passed as he lay there, breathing through the stabbing pain behind his eyes and temple. _So much for no pain!_ Groaning, he pushed himself around, dots starting to constrict his vision and his breathing stopped as a piercing pain shot through his lower back. With a first wisp of panic he recognized that he couldn't move. He remembered the explosion, knowing it hadn't left him any time to… _Sam!_

Beside the pain he could feel the warmness on his lower back, pushing him down and suddenly knew what kept him immobilized. With a grunt and a gentle push he managed to wriggle free of his brother's half-embrace, the world turning upside down, at the sudden movement.

He fell backwards, hitting the floor hard with his head adding a ringing to his ears and without mercy nausea let him gag. He flung around, starting to retch until he thought he'd black out again. Exhausted he turned from the disgusting puddle, panting and trying to calm down his breathing.

It froze as he heard the small whimper coming from his brother. _Sammy!_

Ignoring the nausea, the splitting headache and biting pain in his back, he turned and got on his haunches beside his brother, gently turning Sam over, placing his head in his lap gingerly tapping Sam's cheeks in an attempt to rouse him.

It was then, as he sat there, on the wall of the shed, cradling his brother to him that he saw the whole extend of the destruction. Shuddering, he let his gaze wander in a circle, seeing the split and blackened trees, his nostrils suddenly assaulted by the smell of burned wood, so intensive, that he almost started to gag again. In resignation he rested his head on the blackened wall, closing his eyes for a moment… just a moment… they snapped open at the choking sounds of his brother…

...

Sam continued to wheeze as Dean forced him up the ground. He couldn't help him here. He didn't know what was happening. They were both beyond the point to treat the wounds themselves. His back screamed as he pushed Sam to his feet, ignoring the hitch in his brothers laboured breathing.

Sam was dead weight and Dean almost buckled under him. He felt something on his back tear and warm liquid started to run down, but ignored it. _Just stay on your feet and suck it up, Dean!_ _Keep moving!_ He kept the mantra going as he started forward to get them help.

He could feel Sam's ribs moving under his hands, feeling sick about having to keep the hold like that but he couldn't help it. His whole left side continued to be numb. He had no strength to even raise his arm, let alone keep Sam upright enough to drag him along. He felt another wound on his back reopen and more of the warm liquid ran down his back, pooling and drenching the waistband of his Jeans.

Dean stumbled as suddenly the weight of his brother was taken from him with a jerk and he lost his hold. Both tumbled to the ground, and for a moment he felt the world drift out of his consciousness.

He listened from far as Sam coughed and gasped for breath, watching him from his position on the ground as Sam knelt beside him on all fours, blood running out of his mouth while he continued to clear his airways.

He didn't remember closing his eyes, but he must have closed them because he snapped them open as cold hands ran over his bare back. He hissed and the hands retrieved, feeling his shirt replaced, and the hands grabbing him under his armpits instead.

The world tilted as he was lifted upright and he cried out in pain for real, as the shadow, he assumed to be Sam, tried to lift his left arm.

"Just… little… to go…" he could hear a voice that under no circumstances could be the one of his brother's. " 'lmst there…" the voice of the stranger whispered in his ear. He tried to fight him off, but wasn't able to do more than a gentle push as he was dragged forward again. His mind clinging on one thought only.

_Where's Sam?_

* * *

TBC...


	10. Chapter 9

Hey folks,

thanks for the reviews! Enjoy the last chapter. I hope you like my idea of the ending.

Let me know...

-Lee

* * *

He didn't want to go back to the world of pain he had come from. He had felt gentle touches on his face, that had turned into a burning sensation on his side, as it tried to rip him in two.

The suffocating feeling started to get worse and he tasted the blood, that ran down his throat, letting him wheeze for breath. He jerked as he choked on the blood, coming to full awareness immediately. As he jerked away from the excruciating hands, he fell on his hands and knees starting to cough, to splutter, to get rid of the disgusting stuff that congested his airways. His broken ribs shifted with the movement and he wanted to pass out again.

The small sound beside him, let him fought back the darkness that threatened to swallow him, and he crawled over to his brother, lying on the ground.

Dean was on his stomach, his head turned to the right side and his eyes closed.

His pallor under the smeared grime was ashen. He was sweaty and his breath came out to fast and too shallow. Sam closed his eyes as his vision swam again and tried to clear his view, by blinking several times. As he looked on he saw the blood on his brother's back.

Swallowing hard, he gently tugged on Dean's shirt, wincing as it clung to his back suppressing a sob as he saw the done damage.

He had to get him back. This was beyond his treating. He saw Dean's eyes snap open, as he touched his hurt back and tugged the shirt down.

Biting down hard, he grabbed him under his arms, starting to pull him up, wincing and forgetting to breathe as the burning in his chest continued to intensify.

He raised Dean's left arm, to pull it around his neck, almost letting go of him as he screamed out in pain.

"Just… little… to go…" he tried his voice, wincing at the distorted sound; that and the pain that came along with talking, but kept a firm hold of the arm. Dean's attempt to struggle against his grip was weak. " 'lmost there…" he whispered, ignoring his brother's fight and kept dragging on.

...

He stopped dazed as suddenly the trees were gone and sunlight blinded him for a moment. Raising his eyes he froze, looking at the people that as well had stopped and already started to gather around them, staring. He swayed, feeling his grip on Dean loosen, his gaze wandered around, meeting their eyes. Dean fell, as he suddenly couldn't hold onto him anymore, and he felt the pull of the darkness now, stronger then ever. With a whispered "Help… Please…" his legs buckled and unconsciousness claimed him before he hit the ground.

_SPNSPN_

The soft light of the afternoon sun woke him. He blinked slowly, his eyes coming to a rest on the other bed. A small smile flickered across his features as he watched his brother in his sleep but was replaced by a frown soon.

They'd be so screwed. He shifted slightly, wincing as his back protested at the small movement. Slowly he pushed himself upright, ignoring the pain and the weakness.

Finally sitting he breathed a couple of times, forcing himself to relax before he swung his feet off the bed.

At that moment the door opened and a doctor followed by a police officer came in.

Dean swallowed hard, putting both palms of his hands down on the mattress, watching the officer as he glanced around, then left the room without a word. He just knew the guy positioned himself in front of the door.

"I see you woke up, young man." The doctor started the conversation cheery. "Welcome back."

Grumbling something unintelligible under his breath Dean nodded.

"How do you feel?" The doctor continued, reading in a file.

" 'm okay." Dean mumbled.

"No pain? The wounds on your back seemed quite nasty. Had to stitch them each with fourteen stitches. I thought you'd die because of the loss of blood. Couldn't let that happen, could I?" he winked at him.

Dean snorted at that, but the doctor seemed obvious to his sarcasm.

"You two were quite the most exciting cases in the last couple of years I had…"

"How's Sammy?" Dean asked, stopping the incredible jolly doctor.

"Well, your "partner"…" he accentuated "partner", smiling dazzling, "… is going to be fine. Although, we were concerned about the blood, it seemed he only ruptured his vocal-chords, which's quite hurtful and he'll not be able to speak for a couple of days, but it's not life-threatening. He has two broken ribs and the nasty bite-wound, I assume you know about that?"

Unconsciously Dean's hand moved to his head, combing through his hair, this was giving him a headache.

"The only thing that keeps us really concerned is the neck-injury. Nothing broken though, it's only a bad contusion there, which will hurt some time."

The doctor stopped with his litany, suddenly looking concerned and serious.

"You should go back to sleep, young man. The last couple of hours were quite a strain for you too."

"When's the Sheriff gonna talk to us?" he asked, as he decided the doctor probably was right, and lay back down, feeling his arms tremble slightly.

"Ohhh, dear boy!" the doctor laughed, his eyes wrinkling and his nose scrunched up. It simply looked ridiculous.

"All business again, are we? Well, Sheriff Beckett positioned a guard outside your door. So, no one's gonna bug you."

The doctor again started to laugh and wrinkle every possible place of his face as he saw Dean's astonishment.

"What do you think Mr. Smith? We're a small town. It doesn't take long to spread news, especially if you're talking with the really, really infamous Doctor Sassy. If you want news to be spread…" he shrugged his shoulders and added: " But anyhow, we have manners and we treat our heroes well…"

...

He could hear soft voices, that found their way into his sleep.

The chatter continued and he felt the urge to smile, even though he wasn't awake yet.

Something in the voices changed, and he could feel soft touches coaxing him and he knew the voice – it was suddenly only one – was asking him to wake up.

His eyelids fluttered as he fought to wake up now, granting the persisting voice it's wish.

Finally succeeding in opening his eyes he almost startled as he looked directly into his brother's face, hovering above him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't. His throat felt dry and swollen.

Sam saw his brother starting to grin his eyes twinkling in mischief.

"Well, if that's not the sleeping-beauty finally deciding to join her prince…" he said, drawing back, but raising his index-finger as Sam attempted to speak again.

"Uh, uh, uh, Sammyboy. No speaking. Doctor's order." He said chipper, then turned serious.

"How are you feeling?"

Sam watched him for a moment, then mouthed a wordless "alright" to him.

Dean nodded, suddenly the grin back on his face, grabbing something out of Sam's view and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Dude, you wont believe me… but I swear… it's all true." Dean started his story, while munching on.

**FIN**


End file.
